❛ 𝔦 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔦𝔪 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔦'𝔡 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔡𝔦𝔢. ❜
→ * . & ━━ a girl by the name
of sar, who can walk through dreams, finds
herself drawn to her hometown and into a
bigger m...
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༉˚*ೃ ᵒ². 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑!
"𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐃 he didn't know why he let the woman into the back vault to take the money. As the security cameras were switched off while she acquired the money, her appearance remains unknown, and witnesses claim they don't remember her." The television blared from across the spacious room, a pretty dark-haired reporter standing across the street from the bank where the crime scene occurred. "It's been declared that the mystery girl has stolen approximately $100,000, however the true amount remains unknown. Further details on the Dark Sister will come soon."
Sar snorted a little and bit into her hamburger. It was a stupid fucking name they'd given her. She was collapsed against her couch, fingers toying against the armrest. On the way back, they'd stopped at a small diner joint for takeaway.
"Bunch'a losers," Kim barked from across the room, always so very eloquent. She was slumped upside-down in an armchair. Curls of her dark hair fell across her face. Kim would have been considered beautiful in every way possible: she had those large eyes all the actresses sported, a curved nose and perfect lips that even Sar had found herself jealous of. Sar thought all the men would be after her—if she wasn't a criminal, that was. Everyone knew that the moment she got with a man, she'd be off with his cash before the next day. Kim was continuing to ramble on, viewing the television from upside-down. "Still so glad I was the one who snapped you up. You've got a dumbass criminal name—know that one wasn't your fault, such a cliché—but goddamn if you don't rake in the cash. And no one ever remembers your face." She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at the younger girl, like she was trying to understand her, even after the past few years. "Still don't know how you do it." There was a grin lifting the corner of her mouth.
Sar waved her fingers in front of her face, a little dismissively. "Magic," she jested simply, and took another bite of her burger. Though a smile was beginning to crinkle the outer edges of her eyes.
The older girl let out a snort, rolled over so she was the right way up. Her elbow propped up against the arm of the chair. "Seriously, Sar, you've gotta tell me. If my boys get busted one more time, I'm gonna shoot myself." Her Chicago accent was thick—born and raised right here, unlike Sar—and it was so very Kim. Sar thought she would quite enjoy having an accent like that.
"Well, your boys suck." Sar said it matter-of-factly, her eyebrows raised in a kind of joking challenge as she kicked her feet up on the end of the couch.
